


But if you really hold me tight...

by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0



Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [12]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Boredom, Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Eve, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Miracles, Sleep, Sleepy Cuddles, Tags Are Hard, hopefully i covered everything..., i always use that tag bc it's always true, i didn't know that was a tag but YES, maybe? i think it counts as emotional hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0/pseuds/anywh3r3y0uwant2g0
Summary: It's Christmas Eve 2020 and Aziraphale finds that his longing for Crowley has grown three sizes this day. He decides the closest he'll get to the real thing is to fall asleep and hope to dream of his dashing demon.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands One Shots [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784653
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	But if you really hold me tight...

**Author's Note:**

> I KNOWWWW this is so late. It's literally 2021. So I suppose instead of saying merry Christmas I'll say happy new year!!!

It was Christmas Eve. 

It was Christmas Eve and Aziraphale was feeling very alone. 

It's not like it was anything new. He'd been alone for months now. 

And at first it had been lovely! He had thoroughly enjoyed being left to his own devices with just himself and his books. 

But after a few months - around the time when Crowley had _said_ he'd be awake - he'd begun to feel the loneliness creep in from the dark and dusty corners of the shop and start tugging at his clothes, attempting to drag him into a pit of gloom. He'd tried his hardest not to let it happen. He kept busy. He called Crowley (and ended up leaving many voicemails). He went for walks, on pleasant days (donning a tartan face mask, of course). 

But he was finding it more difficult at Christmas. Perhaps it was the colder weather that was making it harder to find the motivation to go for walks. Or possibly the fact that one was _supposed_ to be surrounded by those they love at Christmas time. Or maybe it was because he'd never been this solitary for the holiday season. 

He and Crowley didn't spend Christmas together _regularly,_ per se, but it happened frequently enough that it clearly wasn't a coincidence anymore. And, after last year's big celebration that had followed Armageddon... Well, maybe that was a one-time thing. A we-helped-save-the-world-so-lets-act-like-it type of thing. Not the type of thing that leads to more, and certainly not the sort of thing that is just the beginning of something wonderful that has the potential to last forever. And no, the fact that Aziraphale had immediately thought that the event _was_ the start of something more changed nothing. 

The truth of the matter was that it was Christmas Eve, and he was completely and devastatingly alone in his bookshop. 

And he was bored. 

He was so, very bored. He didn't even want to read any of his favorite Christmas classics - not if he was only going to be reading them to himself. Those books were meant to be _shared,_ to bring people together in a moment of pure enjoyment from a good story. It didn't quite feel right to read them now. 

And anywho, he may not have even been able to focus on the words. His mind was too busy being consumed by thoughts of Crowley. Thoughts of _I wonder what he's doing,_ and, _I wonder if he's celebrating in any way,_ and, _I wonder if he's awake, and, the paranoid, what if he is awake and didn't call me!?_ But even Aziraphale had to admit that sounded a little far fetched. Crowley would certainly call him when he woke up... Right? 

Well, no point in worrying himself over it now. Crowley _hadn't_ called and that was that. Which was why Aziraphale was feeling very alone and very bored. 

He wished he could just pop out of this dreary reality and go to some fantastical dreamland. A dreamland where he and Crowley could be together. That would be quite nice indeed. 

He was so desperate to see his friend that he would do nearly anything. (But, unfortunately, all of the things in the _nearly_ category - all of the things he _wouldn't_ do - were the things that would actually allow him to be with Crowley.) 

He thought some more about what the demon was probably doing. He was probably fast asleep, under a mountain of black blankets (Aziraphale was aware of his cold-blooded nature and thus assumed he would need many blankets - _and_ that they would probably act more like heated blankets rather than non-electrical blankets, just because Crowley believed they should work that way - and he assumed they would be black because. Well. It was Crowley.). Maybe he was snoring softly. Aziraphale didn’t actually know whether or not he snored, but he imagined it would be quite endearing if he did. He wondered if Crowley was having nice dreams. And _that_ made him wonder… if _he_ fell asleep… could he dream of Crowley? That would be very nice indeed. Maybe it was worth a shot… 

He looked around his shop once more. Nothing caught his eye that seemed more interesting than sleeping. 

Aziraphale pouted slightly. He had tried sleeping before. It was also exceedingly boring, just laying there in the dark and hoping to fall asleep. It took so long and was the opposite of stimulating. Usually, he’d think it was nowhere near worth his time, but right now he felt he had nothing better to do. 

He sighed before rousing himself to make his way to the bedroom in the flat above his bookshop.

The bedroom only had a few things in it. It had a bed - of course, - it had many, many books and knick-knacks that didn’t fit in the main area of the shop - or, were too conspicuous to be down there (Aziraphale’s eyes trailed over an age-old sculpture) - and it had lots and lots of dust. The angel had hardly ever come up here, due to the fact that he didn’t sleep. 

He snapped and all the dust miraculously disappeared in one small _poof._

Aziraphale miracled himself into some nice tartan pajamas, slipped off his shoes, and pulled back the covers on the bed. His nose wrinkled in distaste. It wasn’t that there was anything _wrong_ with the bed, he just didn’t see the appeal of it. Sleeping, that is. Well- the whole _ordeal_ of laying in a bed and hoping to be dragged into unconsciousness. 

He thought of what he’d rather be doing - drinking spiked cocoa and eating nibbles with Crowley, giving Crowley a Christmas gift, laughing at terrible Christmas films with Crowley, going for a bitingly cold stroll with Crowley just to come back to the shop and have to cuddle together to warm up. He sighed. He knew he couldn’t do any of that- at least not this year. His eyes returned to the bed and, after sighing once again, he maneuvered himself under the covers. 

It took him an unreasonable amount of time to get comfortable, but, once he did, he moved on to the next phase of his plan: to visit Crowley in a dream. Aziraphale was pretty sure he understood how dreaming worked; whatever one was thinking about right before they fell asleep was what they would dream about, yes? Well, that was what he was planning to do, in any case. It shouldn’t be hard. He had been thinking about Crowley all day. All week. All month. All year. Quite possibly for all of this past decade… scratch that- _certainly_ for all of this past decade. It was very easy for Aziraphale to think about Crowley - it came naturally at this point. 

He thought about the easy smile that bloomed across Crowley’s features when Aziraphale said something that amused him. He thought about his terrifyingly fast driving and how he grinned devilishly when they went careening around corners. He thought about the smiles Crowley tried to hide, the slight upturning of his lips when he saw a child giggling. He thought about the audible smile that Aziraphale had heard the last time he’d talked to Crowley, an expression shining through the words “good night, angel.” He loved Crowley’s smiles. He loved even more being the _reason_ for Crowley’s smiles. But really, he just loved Crowley and wanted to see him happy. Or, right now, he just wanted to _see him_ at all.

He thought about the fact that when he was with Crowley he found that his own smiles came easier. Like the demon was coaxing them out of him; delicately tempting him into a state of content. He wanted that so badly; to be with Crowley and to smile easily while they bantered. The demon was always so delightful to be around and Aziraphale just missed him _so damn much._

That was probably enough thinking. Aziraphale was beginning to get worked up; he was misty eyed and he had completely disregarded the fact that he had internally swore. He thought of the demon’s smiling face once more - smiling like he was about to tease Aziraphale about something - before snapping and miracleing himself into a deep slumber. 

~×~

Aziraphale awoke - after sleeping for what could have been days or mere minutes - feeling chilled to the bone. He blinked his eyes groggily and attempted to survey his surroundings and figure out why he was so terribly cold. It was much darker now than it had been when he’d gone to sleep, and he had no coverings whatsoever. 

He sat up and began to feel around for wherever his blanket had gone. He felt nothing at first, but then patted his hand on something decidedly harder than a blanket. He patted next to it, assuming it was just a book that he had failed to notice in his determination to sleep, but found that it was larger than a book. He continued to pat up it’s form in his half asleep state, before he felt it move slightly and realized in horror that it was a living being and not just some trinket he had overlooked before falling into slumber. 

All of his senses were on high alert. He was frozen in place, body stiff with shock and even a little fear. He flinched when the being groaned and shifted in their sleep. Their movement revealed a shock of flaming red hair that was bright even in the dark of the room and a sharply hooked nose that the hair was falling delicately over. All of Aziraphale’s attention landed on these features and he let out a sigh of relief and all the tension left his body. 

After a moment a giddy smile spread over his face. He was _with Crowley!_ This was even better than meeting him in a dream, this was _real._

Then, having realized just how _real_ it was and how close they really were, his breath began to come at a more rapid pace once again. Thoughts of their safety filled his head. Were they going to get sick? Would they be discorporated all because of Aziraphale’s foolish longing to see Crowley that caused him to accidentally miracle himself into the demon’s flat? His mind was racing. 

He paused and took three deep breaths. He considered their situation. He certainly hadn’t interacted with anyone in the past two weeks, and Crowley had been asleep! So they were safe. It was fine. To be quite honest, it was better than fine. Being next to Crowley, even while he was sleeping was _lovely._

After quite a long while of besotted staring, Aziraphale was reminded of how cold he was. He gingerly lifted up one of the black blankets (he had assumed correctly!) Crowley was dozing under and shimmied his body until he was lying right next to him. He smiled at the sleeping demon and leaned in very slowly to place a soft kiss on his nose. 

Crowley shifted in his sleep once more, moving closer to wrap himself completely around this new source of heat. Aziraphale had to bite his lip to hold back his squeal of delight at the arm draped over his middle and the leg that was bent over his own pair. 

Following a quick glance at the digital clock that resided on Crowley’s bedside table that read 1:27, the angel softly whispered into the dark, “Merry Christmas, my dear,” and snapped to miracle himself to sleep for the second time that night. Unlike the first time, he was resting contentedly in the grasp of his favourite being in the whole universe and had nowhere (or, more accurately, no one) to accidentally miracle himself to. 

Golden eyes blinked open and shone softly in the dark, taking in the sight of an angel fast asleep. The demon smiled gently, a smile brimming with fondness and elation that was caused by seeing the being who he held closest to his heart metaphorically being physically very close to his actual happily beating heart. And he closed his eyes once more.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you guys liked that! Please leave comments and kudos, they make my day every time :) Thank you so so much for reading!! <3


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